


Sweater Weather

by pitytheviolins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel in the Bunker, Closet Shopping, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pre 11x08, Sappy, Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5245445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitytheviolins/pseuds/pitytheviolins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Dean chose that sweater in the preview for 11x08. </p>
<p>
  <img/>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoversAntiquities](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoversAntiquities/gifts).



> Some cozy sweater fluff for [LoversAntiquities]() because she made the mistake of reading some MCD yesterday. 
> 
> Not beta'd. All mistakes are solely mine.

This case was getting weird, even for them. Imaginary friends were no longer imaginary. Suddenly Dean was happy his childhood was too messed up for that bit of apparently normal development. 

From what they could tell at least, it seemed to be local. Even with Sam’s weirdo pal following them around, they narrowed it down to one school in Lebanon where some kid way too smart for their own good somehow managed to wish not only their own, but everyone in the area’s imaginary friends into reality - no matter how long ago they stopped believing in them. Though to be fair, at least he and Sam had a lot of reason to keep believing in the weird shit. 

All of this led, of course, to their new gig as substitute teachers at Lebanon Elementary starting tomorrow. Sam insisted they wear sweaters for some reason, but he is the resident nerd, so Dean felt like he should follow his lead. 

Where he drew the line was spending their hard-earned...stolen money on a friggin sweater that he knew he would never wear again. Especially when there were closets full of perfectly wearable dead guy clothes. If he was going to dress like a grandpa anyway, he might as well go all out. 

So this is how he ended up looking at a pile of sweaters on his bed being enthusiastically sorted by Castiel, Angel of the Lord, and apparent knitwear enthusiast. 

“What about this one?” Cas said, holding up a thick, ugly thing with a small vee in the neck and a large collar like a jacket. 

“No fucking way, Cas, it’s PURPLE!” 

“It’s maroon, Dean, and it is a perfectly masculine color,” Cas smirked, “besides, you didn’t seem to have any problem with that purple dildo we had you riding last week, or -” 

“Okay you shut your face!” Dean interrupted, blushing. He started sifting through the rest of the sweaters on the bed, hoping to find something less garish while Cas chuckled to himself. He was setting aside an old varsity letter sweater, _Grease_ style, when Cas circled his arms around his waist and hooked his chin over his left shoulder. 

“You know, for such a fierce hunter of the supernatural, you really are surprisingly easy to fluster,” Cas said softly, placing a kiss behind Dean’s ear. Dean turned around, pressing their chests together and bumping Cas’ nose with his own. 

“Only for you, Angel,” he whispered before catching Cas’ bottom lip between his own, holding him in a tender kiss for a few moments before humming in contentment and pulling away. 

Cas smiled and squeezed his waist. “While I appreciate the sentiment, we both know that’s not true. Sam told me just last week a high schooler embarrassed you with something about weightlifting.” 

“Fucking Sasquatch can’t keep his mouth shut. I should refuse his sweater plan on principle.” Dean looked back over his shoulder at the ungainly pile of argyle and striped v-necks and groaned. 

“I still don’t see what’s wrong with any of these, Dean. They are clean and well-made, and I was under the impression such necklines were back in style. Stacy and Clinton seem to wear them with relative frequence…” Cas trailed off at the disbelieving look Dean was giving him. 

“We have got to get you out of this bunker soon if you’ve started in on freaking What Not to Wear, Cas. holy shit.” Dean paused, considering. “Though if it gets you to stop wearing the same suit every day, I should probably stop complaining.” Cas had stopped wearing his tie and jacket around the bunker, but it was still the same slacks and shirt every day. 

“My grace keeps the clothing clean, Dean. It’s perfectly sanitary.” Cas frowned. 

“Jesus, Cas, It’s not like I think you stink or anything. Don’t you want to get comfortable though?” Cas shrugged. Dean picked up a light brown sweater with diagonal blue stripes and tossed it at him. “Here, put this one on; it seems pretty soft.” 

Dean walked to the opposite side of the bed, but didn’t even pretend to be looking through the sweaters while Cas unbuttoned his white shirt. Cas had kept Jimmy’s habit of not wearing an undershirt, which Dean thought was kind of weird, but he wasn’t going to complain when the tan expanse of Cas’ chest became visible so quickly. Dean’s mouth watered, his eyes drawn to the dark pebbles of Cas’ nipples and pulled further south to the defined v of his hips as Cas raised his arms and shrugged into the sweater. As it fell to cover his torso, Dean snapped his eyes back up to Cas’. 

He looked fucking perfect in that sweater. Warm and soft and the blue made his eyes sparkle, or maybe Cas was just laughing at Dean practically drooling over him in a piece of clothing he had been disparaging not 20 seconds ago. 

Dean cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah… yeah. That looks… good, Cas. Real good.” 

Cas smiled - that big gummy smile that made Dean’s heart stutter and he got to see so rarely. It was like a prize every time, especially when it was Dean that brought it on. Cas pulled out a sweater from the bottom of the pile and handed it across the bed. “Here.”

Dean took it from Cas, their fingers brushing, and held it up between them. It was a creamy, cable-knit cardigan with brown buttons. Relatively basic, at least, not like the bright red one with snowflakes or something he could see on the top of the pile. He put it on, buttoning it up and holding his arms out for Cas.

“So?” he asked, “I feel like I should be smoking a pipe and wearing a captain’s hat in this thing, Cas.” 

Cas squinted, considering. “I don’t know Dean, I think it makes you look distinguished.” 

“Right Cas, so I look like a grandpa. Basically what I just said,” Dean retorted. 

“No, Dean, you don’t look grandfatherly, more like a friendly… neighbor.” Cas was clearly hiding a chuckle behind his smile. 

“Was that - Cas did you make a Mister Rogers joke?” Dean asked, his jaw dropping. “We are seriously cutting you off from Netflix. You need some real friggin hobbies, man.”

Cas circled around to Dean on the other side of the bed. “Perhaps I could take up knitting and make you some more acceptable sweaters, though you don’t seem to agree with my taste in them.” he replied. “Though I do think this one is perfect for yours and Sam’s goals tomorrow.” He tugged gently on either side of the lapel-like collar. “Not that I would object to the hat, Captain” he added cheekily. 

Dean groaned and swept Cas into his arms. “Always gotta make everything kinky, don’t you, sweetheart?” he said, planting a kiss on his cheekbone, a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll wear the damn sweater if it makes you nerds that happy.” 

Dean tugged Cas closer to him and fell back into the pile of sweaters on the bed. He kissed the tip of his nose and burrowed into the surrounding wool and cotton like a nest. Cas hummed and snuggled into his collarbone. “Wonderful. Shall we go start dinner? Then maybe afterwards you can help me out of this sweater and teach me some more about your ways of comfort.” Cas tweaked Dean’s nipple as he said this, causing him to jump back a bit and look down at him. 

“Sounds like an A plus plan to me, Cas.” Dean smiled and pulled him in for a kiss, guiding their lips together with a firm hand on the back of Cas’ head. They lay there for a few moments, lips moving softly against each other and legs intertwining, until Dean broke away with a final peck to Cas’ lips. He sat up and held out a hand to help Cas up, “Thanks for helping me out with this.” 

“Of course, Dean.” Cas said after he was stood back up, toe to toe with him. “Anything. You know that.” 

Dean blushed again and ducked his head. “Yeah, Angel. I know”. He laced their fingers together and tugged him through the door, ready to go get dinner and relax for an evening before heading to the school tomorrow to continue the hunt.


End file.
